Lucky Nine Lives
by Samberlina
Summary: Luck is never on Harry's side, or is it? Will Harry ever get back to normal or will he be stuck as Severus Snape's pet forever. Will the man come to realise who his companion is?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No, I'm obviously not J.K Rowling; otherwise I wouldn't need the disclaimer. I'm just borrowing her characters for a little while.

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**Lucky Nine Lives**

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**A light patter of rain splattered onto the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, often accompanied by a small clap of thunder. Despite the dreary weather, Diagon Alley was bustling with activity as families rushed through the storm, heads bowed low against the biting wind and water. It was almost as if a curse was at work – that the last day of the summer holidays was marred by such weather. The majority of families had been delaying the inevitable trip to the wizarding alley - the Dark Lords return had implanted fear into all around and had made many paranoid that the popular place would be a sure target for future assault. The final result was a hectic Diagon Alley on the last day of August, fighting through the rain in close nit groups as families attempted to gather up the required upcoming school supplies as swiftly as possible.

Harry grinned to himself, hastily stepping around a puddle as he made his way down the flooded street away from The Leaky Cauldron, pulling his robes more tightly around him. Not even the dreadful weather could dampen his ever soaring spirits at the prospect of finally going back to Hogwarts. For two agonisingly slow months, he had been forced to return to isolation at his relatives' household. Two months that left him with nothing to do except mourn his godfathers passing, as the Dursleys hadn't even drowned him in chores. For the first time in his life, Harry missed being the household slave.

Oh, the irony.

It must have been the dementors from the previous summer that made the Dursleys so twitchy around him. They had practically flinched away from the sight of the unruly teenager, ignoring him as best they could, save for the forced politeness that made from their mouths on the rare occasions when they spoke to him.

They had left Harry to do as he pleased, which resulted in the teenager spending many evenings lying on the covers of his bed in his small bedroom, staring up at the cream painted ceiling with unfocussed eyes. He didn't have his chores to keep him distracted from the overwhelming memories of Sirius that bombarded him. He didn't have his uncle ranting like normal, or his aunt chastising him for a spec of dirt in her pristine house that allowed him to bite back with scathing comebacks. No, the only thing he could do all holiday was to think of Sirius Black.

Sirius.

Everyday had been monotonous. He had woken up then stared at the ceiling, thinking of his godfather. After a while he then went downstairs where aunt Petunia forced a faint smile on her face as she asked him what he wanted for breakfast. Really, it looked like she was barely containing her control of not rushing for the nearest door. He had then returned to the sanctuary of his bedroom, only reappearing for dinner, in which the same event as breakfast occurred, save the addition of Dudley and Vernon. Harry had then excused himself from the silent table, taken a shower, and then returned back to his room. He hadn't even ventured outside once during the painful two months.

Harry was surprised he was still sane.

So, rain or not, Harry was overwhelmingly grateful that the holidays were drawing to a close. He had almost jumped for joy when he asked his uncle for a lift to The Leaky Cauldron the day before, the large man only nodding in response before vacating the room. Really, who were those people and what had they done with his relatives?

Harry shook a piece of wet hair from his face as he plodded on, scanning the shop windows with squinted eyes as he looked through the rain, searching for any place he could take refuge in. He still had a good two hours to kill before meeting up with Ron and Hermione back at The Leaky Cauldron and had already completed buying his new school list, so a coffee shop was top priority on his to-do list.

Unbeknownst to him, a figure masked by common dark robes shadowed his journey, blending in with the crowd with ease as everyone was covered up from the imposing rain. It really was quite simple – the boy was disregarding the people surrounding him, instead opting to gaze through the windows of each shop as he continued onwards, oblivious of the woman dogging his footsteps.

Bellatrix smirked slightly; this was going to be too easy.

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**Previously:**

Kneeling down before her lord, Bellatrix levelled her head with her master's knees, face towards the grassy ground. She waited breathlessly, eager to hear her lord's silky voice address her. She was honoured he had summoned her to him, called her to aid him. She revered the power and influence her master wielded, and was forever grateful he acknowledged her dedication to him.

"Rise, Bella," his soft voice finally penetrated her ears, and she hastened to obey, swiftly and gracefully rising to her feet to stand tall before her master, the man still towering over her with his impressive height. They were standing on the outskirts of Malfoy manor, the last emitting rays of the sun shining faintly around them as dusk began to approach. The sight would have been beautiful, if not for the cowardly man snivelling behind her master.

She never did like rats.

"I have a very important job for you, my dear Bella," Voldemort's red eyes shone brightly within his gaunt face. "Perhaps a chance for you to redeem yourself from your incompetence at the ministry."

She nodded eagerly, sending her dark untamed hair flying. She would show her master her dedication to him. "I am honoured you have chosen me, my lord," she simpered, once again bowing low before him. "What is it you ask of me?"

Voldemort turned around, facing the pitiful man who was still whimpering incoherent words, the man realising a second later of his mistake, quickly hastening to bow before his master.

It was too late.

"Crucio," Voldemort hissed, levelling his wand at the man at his feet, a smirk of satisfaction sliding across his face as his servants agonising screams echoed through the air. It was magic to his ears. For good measure, he held the curse a few seconds longer, lest the man think twice before displaying him again with such rudeness. Finally raising his wand, Voldemort allowed the man to scramble to his feet before sinking low in a deep bow, still visibly shaking from the remnants of the curse as he attempted to control his breathing.

"You see what you make me do, Wormtail," the intimidating figure hissed, nudging his servant with the toes of his foot, watching with satisfaction as the man flinched slightly before nodding frantically.

"My mistake, master, it will not happen again,"

Voldemort began to laugh as he considered the pathetic man before him, the soft sound of his voice carrying easily over the wind, causing the pudgy man to shake, for fear of his masters' wrath. His humourless chuckles soon evaporated, leaving a heavy silence in the air as Wormtail waited with baited breath, head still bowed as he twitched anxiously at his masters feet.

"See to it that it doesn't,"

The traitor mentally sighed in relief at this statement, allowing himself to quickly glance up. Voldemort, seeing his terror, merrily sneered before stepping away, allowing Wormtail to quickly stagger to his feet.

"As I was saying," Voldemort continued on as if nothing had happened. "I have a job for you to do, Bella, one that you will **not** fail," his red eyes glittered dangerously causing Bellatrix to straighten slightly in alertness. "Your job," Voldemort paused, dipping his skeletal like fingers deep within his robe, producing forth a small phial, a clear liquid within, "is to slip this into the drink of one, Harry Potter."

Bellatrix's eyes widened slightly at the importance of the task. Dark eyes shining with malice, she leaned forward eagerly – the better to look at the potion. She narrowed her eyes. "My lord," her eyes flicked onto Voldemort's red slitted ones that watched her with amusement. "What does it do?"

Holding the phial out to her, Voldemort allowed a small smirk to grace his snake-like face as his follower gracefully stepped toward, carefully taking the small vial into her fingers as she surveyed it with interest. Wormtail couldn't suppress a slight shudder that ran through his figure at the dangerous smile on his masters' face, barely stopping himself from hastily stepping away. That could prove perilous to his health.

"That potion, Bella," Voldemort nodded to the phial, which she once again glanced at quickly. "Will forcefully transform Potter into a rather… pathetic animal, which I think is quite fitting for him," his lip curled. "He will be powerless and mine for the taking to do as I please with him whenever I wish," he nodded in satisfaction.

Bellatrix blinked.

Wormtail stumbled back in shock; thankfully Voldemort paid him no mind,

"Master," Bellatrix spoke slowly, weighing up her options of what could happen if she voiced her thoughts. She grimaced. She would be plagued with questions and her mind in inner turmoil if she didn't at least attempt to get the answer out of her master. "Why would you do that?" she raised her eyebrows. "If you want me to slip him this then I may as well give him a poison instead, and be done with the boy once and for all," she bowed her head in submission and respect.

Voldemort studied her silently, almost looking amused that his follower had been so blatant as to question his motives. "Ah, but Bella," he paused. "Although I have previously made it my job in disposing of the Potter brat, I think I may have been acting a little hastily then, after all, the boy could be of immense use for me."

The wild looking woman looked up, uncertainly bright in her eyes. "Use for you?" she frowned.

"Indeed," Voldemort purred, "he could be," he gave a slight chuckle. "Or at least, his blood could be."

Understanding flickered in Bellatrix's gaunt face, her lips forming a soft 'o' of surprise. "His blood made you stronger," she stated.

Nodding in confirmation, Voldemort began to pace before his two servants. One he saw as an over enthusiastic, blood-thirsty vixen, the other a blubbering idiot. He sighed to himself; he really knew how to pick 'em.

"Wormtail here spotted the boy leaving the sanctuary of his house with his muggle relative," he sneered. "He followed Potter and observed him entering The Leaky Cauldron, where he is, for now, unattainable. You're to follow the boy, Bella, and slip him the potion, which should take, approximately, an hour to work. The beauty of the potion is that after it's consumed, will make the drinker unwell, so he will no doubt head back to rest. After ensuring he has taken the potion, Bella, you will wait for him back at The Leaky Cauldron, and bring him to me after he has changed, thus avoiding suspicion. I would be most… displeased if you were to fail," he gave her a dismissive nod.

Listening in awe to her masters' plan, Bellatrix barely comprehended that he was releasing her. Quickly nodding her head in agreement, she slipped the phial safely into her robes before bowing once again. "I appreciate the task, master," she grinned sadistically before vanishing with a faint 'pop'.

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Finally spotting a shabby coffee shop through the rain, Harry rushed up to the door and staggered through, setting the welcoming bell off. Alerted to his entrance, an elderly woman swooped down upon him, notepad and quill at the ready.

"Help you dear?" she mumbled, chewing a bright pink piece of gum between her teeth. Harry suddenly began having doubts about the hygiene of the shop, but pushed it to the back of his mind. There was no way he was going back out into the rain in the hope of finding another shop. Beggars can't be choosers. He offered the woman a small smile.

"Can I please have a flat white?"

"Sure," she scribbled it down. "Anything else?"

Shaking his head, Harry watched her disappear behind the back door before sinking into his chair, sweeping his mess of wet hair out of his eyes as he surveyed the place. A woman might think it was a nice place with the dull pink paint adorning the walls and roses situated on all of the pink tables. A soft music was playing in the background.

It certainly wasn't Harry's cup of tea.

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Bellatrix paused momentarily; shooting a quick look inside the coffee shop, noting her target slouched in a chair in the otherwise empty shop. Grinning to herself, she rounded the corner of the shop, striding down into the side alleyway. It wouldn't do for her to simply stride in with no crowd to conceal her intentions.

Creeping up beside a backdoor, Bellatrix flattened herself beside it, chancing a look through the small glass panel in the middle of the door. The profile of a woman's back was in Bellatrix's line of sight, and she eyed the woman critically. Whipping out her wand she held it aloft, moving it to point it slightly through the door which she had silently cracked open.

"Homenum revelio" she whispered.

Two individuals within the premise. Her eyes shone with malice. The woman and Potter, excellent. Best to act with haste before Potter fixes his thoughts to the scanning of the spell he no doubt felt swooping over him.

Pushing the door open wider, Bellatrix first directed her wand towards the door leading to the front room, murmuring a silence charm before she stepped over the threshold, closing the door behind her with a snap. The woman before her whipped around at the sound, a look of confusion and uncertainty on her face at the sight of the hooded figure standing just inside the back door, a jug of milk still clutched in her hand.

"Can I help you?" she probed, turning around to place the jug back on the counter. Bellatrix inwardly snorted at the woman's stupidity as she raised her wand.

"Stupefy!"

Leaving the woman to fall unceremoniously onto the ground with a thump, Bellatrix paid the woman no heed as she strode forward, pulling the phial from her robes as she approached the bench. A ready-made coffee was just waiting for her to spike, this task really was too easy. Pulling the stopper and upending the potion into the drink, Bellatrix stepped back and observed her handiwork, nodding in satisfaction. Best not to dawdle.

Turning her wand to the woman lying at her feet, Bellatrix laughed softly as she surveyed her victim.

How pathetic.

"Thank you graciously for your help," she bowed mockingly to the motionless woman before straightening up. "Enervate."

As the woman began to stir, eyes fluttering open to blink owlishly at her, Bellatrix aimed her wand at the woman for one last time, focussing on her forehead. The baristas eyes widened in shock as she gazed upon the thin stick pointing at her.

"Obliviate," Bellatrix whispered, watching with satisfaction as the woman's eyes glazed over. The foolish woman would have no recollection of the incident whatsoever. The first part of the job was complete.

As the woman once again began to rouse, Bellatrix took her leave, retreating back out into the rain, swiftly splashing her way to the front of the store to wait.

She didn't have to wait long.

Barely a minute into positioning herself casually against the coffee shop front in an innocent façade of keeping from the rain, Bellatrix saw the worker pass through the swishing doors, placing the mug of coffee in front of the teenager. The boy immediately upended a sachet of sugar into the drink before raising the steaming mug to his lips and taking a sip.

Bellatrix grinned.

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Harry raised a hand to his forehead, fighting off the sudden throbbing headache as he squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the lights in the room which had instantly seemed too bright. His little walk through the cold rain must have caught up to him - he felt downright ill. Reopening his eyes, Harry squinted at his watch – he still had a little over an hour until he was to catch up with his two best friends. Plenty of time to go back for a quick lay down in his room.

Draining the dregs of his coffee, Harry rose to his feet, chucking a few sickles down onto the pink table. Giving the worker a small smile, he made his exit, immediately being buffeted by a sudden gust of rain, causing him to shiver.

He quickly made his way down the now nearly empty street, his every step banging loudly against his temples. Harry fought off the sudden nauseous feeling that rumbled through his stomach, instead swallowing thickly against the feeling, attempting to ignore it as he fought to control the trembling that wracked through his body.

Only a few more blocks to go.

Harry grimaced, picking up his pace momentarily before stopping completely, emitting a small gasp, face twisting into a grimace as he clutched his distressed stomach.

Scrap that, he wasn't going to make it.

Green eyes darting around him as he struggled to hold down the rising bile in his throat, Harry spotted a nearby alley a little further up the street to his left. Rushing towards the entrance, the ill boy barely managed to escape away from any passing eyes in the street before he collapsed down onto all fours with a splash as his recently consumed coffee and meagre lunch re-emerged.

After emptying the contents of his stomach and the bile that followed, the teenager continued to dry retch before his heaving stomach settled. Groaning softly, Harry staggered back to his feet, putting some distance between him and his mess before he leaned against the wet alley wall, sliding down onto his rear. Pulling his legs towards his chest, he let his eyes fall closed as he laid his still pounding head against his legs, gaining some comfort of his wet robes against his forehead.

Harry moaned softly, shifting his head to get into more comfortable position. Really, could his day get any worse?

Apparently, it could.

Harry frowned slightly against his robes as a tingling sensation swept through his body, turning his limbs numb. What now?

Raising his head in confusion, eyes blearily cracking open, Harry gazed in shock at his arms and legs, the limbs appeared to be shrinking before his eyes. He was hallucinating now? He attempted to move his legs, the limbs ignoring his command as they continued to shrink before his eyes.

Just great.

Squeezing his eyes closed against the madness occurring to his body, Harry tried hard at ignoring the soft clicks and cracks that reached his ears. Even though he couldn't feel it, he still struggled to fight off his rising panic as he began to hyperventilate.

That was **not **the sound of his bones snapping. It just wasn't.

Afraid to see what was happening to his body, but wanting to see at the same time, Harry kept his eyes clenched firmly shut, fighting with himself in what to do. At least he still had full control of his optical nerves. Nibbling on his bottom lip nervously, Harry considered what he should do. Open his eyes or keep them firmly closed in a hope to remain oblivious to the situation.

Wait a second… Harry paused. Since when were his teeth so long and sharp?

Eyes snapping open, Harry stared for a moment in confusion – when had it become so dark? He began to panic again, backing away in fright until his sight finally returned to him. It had been a black jumper which had been marring his eyes – he had somehow become tangled in the cloth. He backed away further to assess the situation before he emitted a hiss of surprise as he caught a glimpse of a furry black paw underneath him. His eyes widened in understanding.

Long, sharp teeth.

Black jumper which had looked suspiciously like his own.

Paws for feet.

Hissing coming from his mouth.

He was… he was… Harry gulped. He could barely muster up the courage to admit it, but the truth was obvious, plain and simple.

Harry Potter… was a cat.

Harry struggled to keep a hold of his nerves as he assessed himself. He could barely even call himself a cat; he raised a small paw, inspecting it critically. He was more like a kitten – even less intimidating. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Perfect.

Movement at the entrance of the alley caught his new, sharp eyes. Backing away from the cautiously approaching figure, Harry darted further down the alleyway, taking sanctuary behind a trash bin. Turning his slitted, green eyes back to the cloaked person, Harry waited anxiously, ears flattened upon his head and hackles unknowingly rising as he fought down a defensive hiss that rumbled deep in his throat. No, for now he would wait, and observe this figure that reeked of danger.

He wasn't kept waiting for long.

"Lumos," the voice whispered, giving away that the figure was a woman. That simple word didn't just give away the gender of this monstrosity. No, the voice shook Harry to the core, as he thought back to the same cold, girly voice that screamed at him so furiously at the ministry not more than mere months before.

The voice of Bellatrix Lestrange.

The dangerous death eater strode confidently up to his bundled clothes on the ground, crouching down to lift the jacket from the floor as she studied it intently. Her soft laugh made Harry shiver in fright, sinking low to the ground as the woman rose from the ground to scan the alley critically with the light emitting from her wand, still chuckling slightly.

"Come out, come out, little Harry," she cooed, beginning to stride up the alley, closer to Harry's hiding place, "I want to play." She casually strolled over to an overflowing trash can, eyeing it critically before sweeping the ground around it with her wand, inspecting the rubbish that littered the ground surrounding the bin.

Harry saw his chance.

Leaving the woman to inspect the bin, the small kitten scarpered from the alley, keeping as low to the ground as possible. As soon as he cleared the alleyway and escaped from Bellatrix's visible range, the teenager-turned-kitten took off as fast as his short little legs would permit, ignoring the puddles of water that splashed over his body as he darted through them. He didn't even pause when he saw the entrance to Knockturn Alley looming before him.

He wanted as much distance from that woman as he could.

By now, Harry's dark fur was completely drenched, clinging to his body in small clumps. He desperately wanted to lie down and rest, or to sit down and try to comprehend what happened to him and how to reverse the change. Instead he had to force his tired little legs into continuing to move, knowing he was going to reach the end of his run, and soon.

Darting left into another random alley that looked like all the previous ones he had raced down, Harry urged his legs on as he sprinted towards the other end, failing to notice that this alley wasn't exactly the same as the previous ones so far. He neglected to see the steep steps at the end of the alleyway until it was too late.

Harry had already raced off the edge before his mind comprehended what had happened. A small yowl broke free from his mouth before he slammed onto the edge of the first concrete step, knocking the wind out of his small body. His small form received a similar assault on each painful step down, before mercifully coming to rest at the bottom, a small gasp breaking free of his body.

Harry hissed in pain - his whole body felt like it was completely shattered. He struggled to raise his small head, a sticky liquid falling onto his nose which slowly trickled further down his face. Harry twitched his nose in annoyance, attempting to rid himself of the irritating fluid, only causing more of the stuff to fall down his face from a spot near his forehead. Fighting the headache that had come back in full force since his trip down the stairs, Harry lowered his head back to the ground as darkness began to etch around the edges of his vision, causing him to feel slightly drowsy.

Harry inwardly sighed at his luck. To think that he had started the day cheerful as could be. His day had steadily turned bad to terrible, all in a matter of a couple hours. Lady luck really wasn't favouring him today. Nothing could top the cake on the awful situation he was now placed in.

But if there was one thing that Harry would quickly learn, it was that things could **always** get worse.

"Well, what do we have here?" a silky voice brought Harry abruptly back from the edge of unconsciousness.

Raising his head towards the soothing voice, Harry's dull eyes locked with the black orbs of his potions professor, the man crouching down with a look of concern on his face.

_Oh, of all people to find me, it has to be Snape,_ Harry thought bitterly, finally allowing his heavy eyelids to fall closed in defeat, gratefully sinking into darkness.

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This little plot bunny popped into my head during a dream. I hope it's alright, because I really enjoyed writing it.

Reviews and thoughts of the story so far are very much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: No, I'm obviously not J.K Rowling; otherwise I wouldn't need the disclaimer. I'm just borrowing her characters for a little while.

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**Lucky Nine Lives**

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Contrary to popular belief, Severus Snape vehemently detested dreary days like today. Although he was never one to admit it, a bright sunny day was most preferable over the bucketing rain plummeting from the drizzly sky onto his person at the moment. Really, just because most of his time was spent in the dark dungeons of Hogwarts, it didn't necessarily mean he was the nocturnal bat that students associated him with.

Not that he would ever set the children right; he appreciated the intimidating reputation which proceeded him. It ensured he got the peace and respect he so deserved.

Scowling up at the rumbling sky, Severus ignored the rivets of water that ran down his face, opting to take out his frustration on the weather by muttering darkly under his breath. Typical that the blazing hot day of yesterday couldn't have held out, right on the day he needed to venture from his dungeons to replenish his personal stock of potions ingredients.

The irritated man paid the numerous puddles no heed as he splashed through them, drenching the bottom of his trousers and robes. He quickened his pace – the sooner to get out of the awful weather – gracefully slipping down into Knockturn Alley. Some of his required ingredients were scarce in Diagon Alley, often forcing the Slytherin head of house to venture into the seedy neighbouring alley. Not that anyone dared to approach him, even in this residing vicinity. His cold demeanour and daunting features really was an enormous help to him in times like this.

Catching sight of an apothecary, Severus frowned slightly at the unfamiliar building. Although it wasn't where he normally made his purchases, in this rain he wasn't going to be picky. He slipped through the front door of the shabby, run down store, wrinkling his nose in distaste. The place was in serious need of some renovations. Swiftly making his way to the chipped front counter, he inclined his head slightly in greeting at the clerk, the pudgy man grinned at him in reply, displaying a bunch of rotting teeth.

"Help you, sir?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow at the unfamiliar man.

Nodding curtly, Severus withdrew a slip of parchment from his robes, placing it down on the counter before the man, the owner reaching forward to snatch it from the bench, eyes roving down the sheet.

"I'll need everything there, if you have it all, of course," Severus ground out, wanting nothing more to be done with this insufferable man. The man had the audacity to look up from his list, questions burning in his eyes – no doubt from some of the ingredients. Severus inwardly snorted. He wanted as full a cupboard of ingredients as he could – to be prepared and have anything and everything ready for a potion that may need to be brewed. He felt satisfaction when his personal stores were full to the brim.

It was none of the man's business.

Turning his back on the worker, Severus strode over to a nearby shelf, examining a jar of newt eyes, clearly indicating that he had finished talking. Muttering something incomprehensible, but no doubt rude, the clerk shuffled out a back door, the sound of clinkering jars soon reaching Snape's ears.

Pursing his lip, Severus scanned the shelf while he waited, tapping his foot impatiently. At least he wasn't kept in the lurch for long. Barely five minutes has trickled past before the short man reappeared, a shrunken bag, which, no doubt, contained his goods, clutched in his hands. Making his way back to the counter, Severus made clear he was not up for idle chit chat, managing to pay and escape the store a mere minute later, cursing as he was once again hit by the chilly rain.

Stowing his purchases within his robe, the ex-death eater contemplated whether anything else was on his list of things to buy while he was here, before he apparated back to the sanctuary of the castle. While he pondered, a distressed cry reached him - how he heard the faint sound through the rain though, he didn't know. He immediately set off, hastening his pace to where he believed the sound came from. Striding around a corner, nearly losing his footing on a puddle of water, Severus straightened up, smoothing his wet robes down, his eyes immediately drawn to a motionless object lying at the base of a case of stairs. Covering the distance between them, Severus gazed down at the injured kitten, lying immobile at his feet.

"Well, what do we have here?" he crouched down, inspecting the small feline closely.

Alerted by the sound of his voice, the little head raised itself slightly from the ground, green eyes peering up at him curiously. He almost thought he saw a look of disbelief shining in the orbs before they slowly closed, the head falling back to the ground with a splash.

Stretching a thin hand out, Severus gently probed the kittens' small head for any sign of an injury. Satisfied, he smoothed a thumb over its forehead, the digit coming away wet with blood. Frowning, he ran an eye over the rest of the frail body before scooping the creature into his arms. A small hiss of pain broke free from the feline at the contact, yet the animal stayed blissfully asleep. The cats' state of consciousness suited Severus for now – the apparation wouldn't distress it.

Rising back to his feet, Severus clutched the small form to his chest, turning on the spot, his thoughts on Hogsmead, the wizarding village. Feeling the familiar construction of his chest, he merrily shut his eyes, holding his bundle closer until the sensation passed.

Re-opening his eyes as he stumbled to a halt, Severus took in the familiar sight of The Three Broomsticks. Barely sparing the place a glance, he strode off towards the castle, only pausing momentarily to raise his wand to the locked gate which allowed him entrance through the protection wards.

He cleared the grounds in record time, and was soon making his way through the entrance hall and down the narrowing tunnels that lead towards the dungeons. From his many years of inhabiting the dungeon, he could easily navigate himself through any twist and turn that presented itself. He could even go as far as to say he knew where every torch bracket was located, the dim orange lights flickering through the otherwise, dark passage. His footsteps echoed through the empty corridor as Severus swept down a flight of steps, his still wet robes billowing out behind him. Finally coming to rest at the end of a particular long stretch of corridor, the feared professor shifted the kitten slightly in his arms before converging towards the left wall. He pocketed his wand before his arm snaked out, trailing a finger lightly over a stone in the wall that was a shade darker than the others.

"Open," he murmured, stepping back as the stone wall begin to fold in on itself as a passageway began to emerge. The opening was very similar to that of the entrance to Diagon Alley via The Leaky Cauldron. Severus had, in fact, gotten the idea from there, using the same protection to guard his private chambers from irritating students and prying eyes.

He stepped through the dark passage onto the soft burgundy carpet adorning his floor, retrieving his wand and flicking it at the nearby grate, a roaring fire immediately springing into life. Stepping further into the cosy living room, he strode a little closer to the blazing flames, sinking down to his knees as he relieved himself of the small bundle, laying the unconscious kitten gently onto the carpet. With both arms now free, he shrugged his cloak from his shoulders, casting a drying charm upon the cloth before he gathered it cautiously around the little body, carefully wrapping it around the frail form.

Severus frowned, shooting one last glance at the motionless bundle before he rose to his feet and staggered over to one of his cream plush chairs, collapsing into it with a sigh. Raising his wand once more towards his kitchen, the ebony haired man summoned a small glass of whisky, taking a sip gratefully as he contemplated his new charge. He was confident that the small animal would live through the night, giving him time to seek out Hagrid in the morning to have a look at the little tyke. Best to let the half-giant assess the situation before he attempted to heal the cat when he could possibly doing more harm than good – he wasn't sure the little body could withstand the strain.

Draining his glass, the former death eater stood and ambled for the bathroom. Yes, a hot shower and an early night seemed too good to resist right now. Be damned if he would miss his last chance to go to bed early and rise late without worrying about snotty, little children bothering him.

Severus pinched the tip of his nose and sighed.

* * *

The feared professor yawned widely as he strolled down the dungeon hallways towards the great hall where a glass of pumpkin juice and French toast had his name on it. He was feeling most ravenous since skipping dinner the night before, his stomach choosing that moment to grumble in hunger. He shuddered to think what the Gryffindor head would say if she saw him right now. Minerva would, no doubt, burn the image of a disgruntled, tired and hungry Severus Snape into her mind forever if she were to catch glimpse of him.

He would never live it down.

Hastily giving his dark head of hair a flick to check all was right; he quickly smoothed down his robes, plastering a magnificent scowl upon his face as he swept gracefully into the great hall, striding up the length of hall towards his colleagues. Slipping into his seat beside Minerva, he chose to ignore her greeting, instead opting to reach across the table to grab a few slices of toast.

She raised her eyebrows.

"Morning," he finally ground out between a mouthful of toast, snagging a Daily Profit from the bench and flipping it to the front. Like most of the previous newspapers all holidays, it displayed a picture of Harry Potter, accompanied by a huge, bolded title above the image. The picture and title alone almost took up half of the front page.

'**The Chosen One!' **Snape snorted.

Brat.

"So, Severus," Minerva prompted him, leaning across for a pitcher of water. "What did you get up to on the last day of holidays?"

Severus mentally groaned. Did she really have to mention it? He was dreading the return of the pests enough, which she was no doubt aware of. It was obvious to everyone that he became even more grouchy than normal at the end of each holiday. Maybe he should inquire at the ministry about getting a time turner, he pondered sarcastically, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. The one good thing he could point out was that he was finally successful at gaining the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts after all these years, Dumbledore having asked him to take the post a few weeks prior.

Thank goodness for small miracles.

His black eyes roved down the lone table, coming to a stop on the new potions professor, Professor Slughorn. He remembered the man from his own school days, when the porky teacher had possession of the potions post. The man's skill in potions was nothing though, when compared to his own.

Severus smirked. He was always going to be the potions _master _of this school_. _

Back to the present though. He focused on his co-worker.

"I bought potion ingredients and adopted a cat," he deadpanned, eyes flickering onto Hagrid's rising form as the half-giant began to depart the breakfast table. "Now if you'll excuse me," he swept to his feet. "I need to ask Hagrid something,"

Not giving the woman a chance to reply, Snape quickly strode away, catching up to the large man as he was making his way out of the entrance hall and onto the grounds.

"Hagrid," he called, gracefully sliding up beside the man, who looked at him curiously. "I need some advice."

The large man scratched his beard as he considered the wizard before him, a bemused look upon his face. Since when was Severus Snape one to ask for advice, of all things?

"What can I 'elp you with, Professor Snape?"

At least the man was taking him seriously, Severus nodded. "I have an injured cat," he said brusquely, getting straight to the point. "I wanted to see if you would take a look at it, as I'm reluctant to cast any diagnosis spells on the thing. It's only a young one."

Surprise flickered in Hagrid's beady black eyes, as they widened slightly at the words that the feared professor was looking after a _kitten_, of all things.

"Course I can," he said gruffly, holding in the urge to tease the new DADA teacher – only a fool would look a gift horse in the mouth. "Bring 'im round anytime today, I'll be there."

Nodding his thanks, Severus turned tail and began walking away. "I'll bring it down now," he called over his shoulder, disappearing down the stretch of corridor that lead towards the dungeon.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Hagrid started making his way across the grassy slope towards his house, chucking slightly in amusement. "Severus Snape owning a kitten, who would have thought."

* * *

Severus entered his quarters to find the black kitten awake, still situated in his robes before the fire. Emerald eyes flashed from the light as it watched him enter, being forewarned of his arrival from the clicking of the stone opening the passage.

"Aren't you a lucky little thing," Severus advanced upon the small form, kneeling down as he assessed the feline. I'm taking you to get checked out," he spoke quite softly, aware of the cats' over-sensitive ears; mentally wincing as he realised he was actually conversing with the kitten. _Him!_ He reached out a hand towards the animal, but quickly withdrew it as the cat backed away, a hiss of pain erupting from it as the baby cat wobbled on three legs, holding a back leg aloft as it struggled to keep balance. Finally accepting defeat, it sunk back to the ground, curling the front back paws underneath its body.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he held his hand out again, this time persistent, and scratched the base of one of the small ears. Despite its previous hostile movement, the kitten subconsciously leaned into the hand, a purr rumbling in its chest. The dark haired man's lips twitched into a small smile.

Taking his chance, Severus placed his other hand underneath the small belly, surprising the cat as he suddenly lifted it into his arms, cradling it close to his body. Although he would rather die than admit it, he thought this small animal was rather precious. Not like those brats he shuddered to call students.

"Oh, shush, you" he gently chastised the kitten as it began to mewl softly, squirming in his arms to get free.

He was having none of that.

Tightening his arms around the squirming bundle, Severus softly attempted to soothe the feline as he strode from the room, the stone wall clicking back into place behind him.

* * *

Harry emitted a growl as he continued to struggle with the arms clamped around his body. No, not just anyone's arms.

Severus Snape's.

His day just seemed to be getting better and better (or was it days?) He couldn't be sure how much time had passed since falling unconscious in Knockturn Alley to waking up in the unfamiliar room that he now knew was Snape's. He was still struggling to accept that it all hadn't been one big crazy dream. But no, things never go his way.

He **was** attacked by Bellatrix Lestrange.

He **was** turned into a cat.

He **was** found by his most hated professor, Severus Snape.

He **was** now residing in the man's arms, as he was being carted off somewhere to get a 'check-up'.

It was almost laughable at how unbelievable the situation was. He was stumped for ideas on what to do, because, come on, how could he communicate when all that comes out of his mouth is yowls, growls, and the occasional hiss? He can even purr, for goodness sake?

Harry yowled in embarrassment. If he was still capable of blushing, he would have been tomato red by now. He couldn't believe that he actually let Snape scratch him, and even more so, why couldn't he stop himself from enjoying it.

Harry was at a loss to do.

Twisting his body around in his captors arms, Harry scrambled to look over the wrist blocking his line of sight, his new, sharp eyes narrowing in on the structure in the distance that his potions professor was making a definite beeline for – Hagrid's hut.

Hagrid!

"Please, Hagrid, recognise me!" Harry shouted out loud in frustration, a string of pathetic meows coming out instead. Harry let his small head fall onto Snape's arm, closing his eyes in defeat.

Why did everything have to happen to him?

Harry remained in the same position until the sharp knocking of a door brought him out of his stupor. Lifting his head, he was greeted with the sight of Hagrid's wooden door before it swung open, the half-giant peering down at him curiously, a small smile visible between his bushy beard.

* * *

Severus inclined his head slightly at the appearance of the half-giant. The man smiled in greeting.

"Professor, you were quick. Come in, come in."

Stepping over the threshold, leaving Hagrid to close the door behind him, Snape advanced to the small table, inviting himself into one, transferring the kitten to his lap. Hagrid stepped closer, eyes on the small black animal that stared back with bright green eyes.

"I'm guessing it's a he?"

Severus snorted. "Sorry?"

"The kitten," Hagrid waved his hands. "Is a he?"

Severus nodded, but otherwise didn't reply. Hagrid squatted down to get a better look at the cat, eyes crinkling. He finally glanced up at the professor.

"He's cute little fella, isn't he?"

Snape's eye twitched, but otherwise gave no indication that he heard the large man's words. Did the man actually think he would reply to a question like that? Instead he chose to scoop the kitten back into his clutches, holding it out for Hagrid to inspect.

"His back left leg is injured, and he also has a small cut to his forehead. Can you check what's wrong with his leg and anything else that may be wrong?"

"Sure," Hagrid took the cat into his arms with surprising gentleness, running a hand gently down a side, soon switching to check the other. Satisfied, Hagrid smoothly ran a finger down the small tail, before finding the cut on the animals head.

"It's just a little wound, Professor Snape, it should heal up on its own, no worries," the half giant concluded after inspecting the small head.

"What about its leg?" Severus inquired, his eyes moving to focus on the hind legs. Hagrid lowered his arms and deposited the kitten onto the table, gently holding the small cat down as he inspected the injured leg, causing the animal to hiss slightly in pain from his probing fingers.

"It's not broken, 'e must have just sprained it," Hagrid concluded, straightening up. "It'll get better on its own, don't worry."

Severus nodded, once again taking the kitten in his clutches after he rose to his feet. The feline didn't protest this time, instead settling down in his arms for a nap. "Thanks."

"No problem," Hagrid rumbled, lumbering over to open the door for him. "Have you thought of a name?"

"Not yet," Severus emerged out into the sun before saying goodbye to the man who had followed him out. "I'll see you at the welcoming feast tonight."

"'Kay," Hagrid nodded. "Good luck with the little guy, you can bring him round anytime," he assured before waving them goodbye, returning back into his house and closing the door softly with a click.

"I may need it," Severus sighed as he turned and began making his way back to the castle, a little black cat dozing lightly in his arms.

* * *

I hope people like the continuation of this story so far!

Reviews and thoughts on the chapter are very much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: No, I'm obviously not J.K Rowling; otherwise I wouldn't need the disclaimer. I'm just borrowing her characters for a little while.

* * *

**Lucky Nine Lives**

**

* * *

**

Between a personal meeting with the Dark Lord or the welcoming feast at Hogwarts, Severus couldn't decide which one was worse. There wasn't much to desire about the torture sessions' Severus had endured during Voldemort's meetings, but was sitting in the same proximity of hundreds of teenagers any better? Overly exuberant and sticky fingered, shouting across the house tables as they greeted friends after the summer apart, the noise was steadily grating on Severus' ever-growing headache. He sighed.

It really was a hard choice.

Severus resisted the urge to pinch his nose in frustration, instead settling for simply groaning under his breath, stabbing viciously at an unfortunate piece of kidney pie. He momentarily paused in the attempted assassination of his food, shooting a vicious look down the staff table at the headmaster, struggling to not roll his eyes at the mans worried face. The aged man was gazing fixedly at the Gryffindor table, or rather, at a spot where a certain trio resided. Severus followed his eyes, instantly settling on the messy red mop of Ronald Weasley. His lip curled in distaste. For once the redhead wasn't stuffing his overly large mouth with food, sending chunks flying through the air. That was a surprise. Instead, the Weasley was sitting with a solemn look upon his face, staring down at his empty plate in silence. Severus raised his eyebrow slightly. Now that was unusual. His dark eyes then shifted onto the girl seated beside the gangly teenager, that was predictably, Granger. Like Weasley, the girl was marring an equally troubled expression upon her features as her brown eyes swept up and down the Gryffindor table, no doubt looking for something.

It didn't take Severus long to deduce what.

No less than a mere second after removing his eyes from the Granger girl, he noticed the lack of their third member. The teenager who lived to taunt him, to bring back harsh memories from his own days as a student;

Harry Potter.

Just what had that boy gotten himself into now? The DADA teacher pushed his plate away - he no longer desired the mushed up pie – and rested his arms on the table. Was it too hard for the teenager to stay out of trouble for a meagre two months away from the castle?

Severus nearly snorted at that. Of course it was, this was Harry Potter, after all. That boy was a magnet for trouble.

No wonder Albus was anxious, he thought, shooting another look at the man. His darling golden boy was apparently missing, if his friends' reactions were anything to go by. He raked a hand through his chin length hair. Honestly, how was he supposed to keep the child safe if he wasn't even here? And no doubt Dumbledore was worried he was in the Dark Lords possession, if his expression was any indication. Severus frowned, causing an unfortunate Hufflepuff first year that he had been gazing aimlessly at to flinch. That outcome seemed highly unlikely – he would have heard if Voldemort had new plans concerning the boy, surely?

Albus would know.

Severus glanced back down at the table, noticing the disappearance of dinner and arrival of the deserts. He quickly loaded his plate with choc-chip ice-cream before digging in with gusto, relishing the smooth pieces of chocolate particularly. As much as he enjoyed the creamy desert, he was itching for the feast to wrap up promptly – he was anxious about leaving his charge alone. He had reluctantly parted with the little black kitten, leaving the feline to once again rest before the fire, wrapped in a fine blue blanket he had found in a cupboard.

Absorbed in his thoughts, Severus was brought back to reality when the headmaster rose to dismiss the students. Hastily polishing off his desert, he hastened to his feet and began making his way towards Dumbledore as the students began to vacate the hall.

"Severus," the man greeted as he turned at his arrival, nodding his head solemnly at Snape, the usual twinkle absent from his eyes. The Gryffindor head strode up to join the pair, a troubled look upon her lined face. "A word, please."

The headmaster turned and made from the hall after inclining his head at McGonagall, leaving Severus to briskly trail after, sending his robes flying in his wake. Minerva re-joined his side after a quick word to her Prefects, the Gryffindor head snapping at a pair of straggling lions as they strode from the hall and quickly covered the distance between the headmaster. The trio walked in silence down the hallways, none making an attempt at striking conversation. They were, after all, still in close proximity of the students making their way to the common rooms – there was no definite guarantee of privacy.

Severus almost sighed in relief when they made their way onto the seventh floor and the entrance to Dumbledore's study came into sight. He wanted to get the inevitable conversation out of the way as quickly as possible – he still had his Slytherins to address before he could return to his new charge.

The trio wordlessly stepped onto the moving staircase and ascended into the office where Fawkes ruffled his wings and greeted them with a cheerful trill. Once out of sight of any prying eyes, Dumbledore began to pace restlessly before his desk, leaving the two professors to gratefully collapse into twin plush chairs in exhaustion.

"Has Lord Voldemort mentioned anything about Harry?" Albus turned towards Severus, ignoring Minerva's slight flinch at the name. "I don't even care if it was a minor mention; I want to hear of it."

Severus shook his head, racking his mind for anything insignificant. "The Dark Lord," he sneered, "has been busy causing mayhem in the muggle world since it was openly announced of his return." He raised his eyes to meet the steely blue ones of the headmasters. "He hasn't mentioned anything to do with Potter for quite some time. I'm sure his followers would have been summoned if he had his hands on the boy, he would openly wish to boast."

"Oh, I'm sure he would," Dumbledore sounded a touch more hopeful, pausing midstride. "Obviously, it's most prudent we find Harry, and quickly, before Voldemort gets word that he's not at Hogwarts. Then we'll have to contend with him searching for Harry as well."

"Albus," Minerva spoke up, adjusting the spectacles on the bridge of her nose. "Might I suggest we start at the Dursleys? I'm sure it'll take little persuasion for them to tell us anything and everything they know about Harry's whereabouts." She withdrew her wand and fingered it slightly, no doubt aware of the Dursleys great fear of magic.

"Do try to get the information calmly out of them first, Minerva," Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles at her in warning. "Although, if they remain tight lipped, make sure nothing permanent is done."

A thin smile made its way onto the transfiguration teachers' lips at the headmasters' approval. She gracefully rose to her feet, drawing her emerald robes tightly around her thin frame. Giving a small nod to the two wizards, she quickly departed the room, closing the door silently behind her.

"Now, Severus," Dumbledore's voice rang out once again. "I want you to keep an especially keen ear open at every meeting. Until we hear back from Minerva with any potential information, it'll have to do." He strode over to a wall, running a withered black hand over the case which held Godric Gryffindor's sword. Sighing heavily, he turned back to the Slytherin head of house.

"That's all we can do for now," Albus frowned in dissatisfaction of the words. "I'll leave you to go get acquainted with your new batch of first years, no doubt they're wondering where you are."

"As you wish," Severus smoothly eased himself from the chair, patting his robes back down into place. "I'll see you tomorrow, Headmaster," he inclined his head as he excused himself from the room, quietly securing the door shut behind him.

Once out of the room, Severus made haste, clearing the spiral staircase and the length of the seventh floor corridor in a matter of seconds. He strode down the now deserted hallways, his footsteps clicking dully over the marbled ground. The corridors were eerily quiet, not even a ghost was spotted, permitting Severus to make it to the dungeons uninterrupted. Coming up beside the familiar blank stretch of wall, Severus voiced the password, immediately stepping through into the common room after the door had formed.

A small cluster of students were gathered on the surrounding chairs or situated on the floor, all chattering softly to one another. As they caught sight of the intimidating head of house, many adopted nervous expressions upon their faces, only advancing closer to the tall man after a gesture from a watchful prefect. Soon, the entire sum of first years was sitting on the floor at his feet, the dull green light from the overhead lake shining over their faces. Severus waited with uncharacteristic patience, finally launching into his speech after the fidgeting had ceased.

"Welcome to Slytherin," he spoke softly, well aware that he held an audience better with his smooth, dangerous tone. "The outsider house, or as we are more commonly known as, the 'dark' house," his lip curled slightly. "Because of certain wizards that once resided with the snakes, you will, no doubt, be shunned from the other houses. They will belittle you because of your house, fail to see what is underneath the colour of your tie, and I very much doubt you will be on friendly terms with any out of Slytherin."

He raised his voice slightly. "That is why Slytherin is such a close-knit group. We can't afford to make enemies between one another when seventy-five percent of the school detests you on your first day simply because of your sorting." He glanced over the sea of shocked faces. "Fighting in this house will **not **be tolerated and if I catch wind of any unnecessary bickering in here, then," he smirked. "Beware."

The first year's eyes grew (if possible) wider whilst the unfortunate people in the front row began to inch back slowly, hoping to put some distance between the new head of house. A small glance in their direction stopped that train of action.

"You must come to the aid of any fellow Slytherin if you see them being bullied by other house members. Know though that I will be most displeased if I learn of any fighting going on; you are to simply back up the student and avert a disruption or, if that's not possible, alert a teacher. They are there for a reason, and unlike other foolish houses who consider themselves brave," Severus sneered. "You are to utilise the teachers help, it's one of the reasons why we're here."

"That being said," he ploughed on. "Know that I am always available if you need a helping hand. If a student is troubling you, come to me. If you are struggling in a class, come to me. If you ask about something foolish like relationship problems, you're going to need help if you come to me," he smirked at the unnerved children. "I will help with your problems, but don't abuse that with silly inquires."

He raised a hand as the students began to become restless, calling for silence once more. "I know it's been a long first day, but I have one more serious issue to discuss," he looked over the sea of faces stoically. "One in every four children is found to have suffered some form of abuse, that's enough to confidently say that an entire house worth of students has, or still does, suffer from it. Now, most of these students end up in Slytherin because of their upbringing, I'm constantly dealing with students and their problems about the issue, so I'm no stranger to it. Just know you can confide in me, as I expect you to, so you can get the help you deserve. No one is expected to live with that over their shoulders and no one in my house will."

"Now," he spoke up again, snapping the students back to attention. "Off to bed with you all, a big day tomorrow awaits you. Good luck," he smiled slightly before making his exit, cloak swishing behind him.

Severus practically raced back to his quarters, sliding to an abrupt stop before the stone wall. Hastily sliding a finger over the stone to enter, he waited impatiently for the opening to emerge before quickly stepping over the threshold.

"What the-?"

Severus looked around in confusion, what in the hell had happened? He strode forward, kicking aside a torn pillow in the process which sent feathers flying, and looked around tight lipped at the destruction. His beautiful plush chairs were now in shredded tatters, looking well defeated. The nearby coffee table was in a similar state, the bamboo frame demolished and scattered all over the floor. The pot plant which had resided on said coffee table was knocked over, pot broken and dirt scattered all over his maroon rug. Severus took a couple deep breaths to calm himself.

Either a hurricane had ripped through his quarters, or there was a kitten in very deep trouble.

Black eyes zoomed in on the cause, narrowing in anger. The foolish feline had the audacity to actually look proud of himself, standing in the doorway to his kitchen where it had just emerged from, head tilted to the side and green eyes shining as he gauged the shallow faced man's reaction.

Well, if a reaction was what the kitten wanted, reaction was what it was going to get.

"You," Severus hissed venomously, taking a slow step forward.

* * *

"Me?" Harry voiced innocently, a small meow passing his lips, looking unimpressed at the man's attempt at intimidation. Really, the man had sunken low if he resorted to pulling his scary look on a kitten nowadays.

The man looked to be positively boiling with anger that the cat had actually responded to his declaration. Harry almost chuckled with laughter at the sight – one thing he wouldn't have dare done if he had been facing Snape as a human while the man wore that vicious look.

He certainly put shame to the quote 'If looks could kill.'

It wasn't like Snape didn't have it coming though, Harry thought rationally. He was asking for trouble leaving a kitten alone in his room for hours on end, it was obvious he was going to get bored. Plus it was high up on Harry's new list of things to do – things he couldn't do as a human, for obvious reasons. Snape'll soon calm down, when the man composes himself enough to realise he can simply restore the rooms with a few flicks of his wand.

Harry snickered.

Snape's anger seemed to suddenly melt away at the small meow. "You foolish little thing," the man grumbled, sweeping him into his arms awkwardly, being mindful of the tender leg. "What am I going to do with you?"

Harry squirmed against the constricting arms; it was very uncomfortable being handled by the strict teacher. "You can put me down, for starters," he grumbled, a series of pathetic cries escaping him.

"What to do, what to do," Snape mumbled to himself, giving Harry's ear a light scratch. Harry cursed himself for one again leaning into that irresistible touch, mewling lightly for more.

"Well, I'll have to get you a collar, at least that'll let me know where you are," the teacher said to Harry, placing him gently back on the floor. Harry immediately backed away from the man at that statement, hair bristling at the thought of a sparkling diamanté choker around his neck. He shuddered. No way.

"Forget about it, Snape," he hissed, flattening his ears to his head. "You're not dressing me up."

A smirk twisted at Snape's face at his reaction, a satisfied look crossed his face.

"Oh? It doesn't seem like you want a collar," he chuckled lightly. "I guess this is a suitable punishment then, I'll be sure to pick out the prettiest one for you," he cooed, causing Harry to growl at the unfairness of it all.

Damn Snape!

Turning his back on the infuriating man, Harry stalked over to one of the destroyed chairs. He gave it a look of satisfaction before leaping up, stumbling slightly as he fought to keep the weight off his injured leg during landing. He hissed one last warning over at Snape, the man looking on in amusement as Harry curled up on the shredded seat, wrapping his small tail around his body for warmth. The man silently observed him for a little while longer, before walking over to the blue blanket which was (amazingly) still intact.

Harry buried his small head under a paw as the man approached; keeping himself stationary as Snape carefully draped the sheet over his tiny form. Instead he waited with baited breath, listening intently to the footsteps as they walked away in the direction of the kitchen, closing his eyes in anticipation. Seconds later, his sensitive ears picked up the gasp of surprise that escaped the mouth of Severus Snape.

"You blasted little cat!"

Harry grinned.

* * *

Well, that's chapter three of the story so far. Hope everyone enjoys it!

Not much of Harry!Sev in this chapter, but Dumbledore's reaction and the routine start of year talk was needed.

I would like to thank everyone so far for their lovely reviews. It really makes my day when I grab my phone to check the emails and find lovely comments about the chapters thus far!

That being said, reviews and thoughts on the story/chapter so far are very much appreciated!

Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

No, I'm obviously not J.K Rowling; otherwise I wouldn't need the disclaimer. I'm just borrowing her characters for a little while.

* * *

Lucky Nine Lives

* * *

The manor was cold and uninviting, the majority of the occupants silent and unmoving. In one of the many spacious rooms of the Malfoy estate, the feared Dark Lord was pacing, a satisfied smirk gracing his face. Kneeled before him were the residents of the household, Lucius and Narcissa, both looking positively faint at the dangerous smile which adorned their leaders' features. Both waited with baited breath for their master to break the stifling tension mounting in the room. Shuddering slightly, Narcissa lowered her gaze from the intimidating figure, opting to survey the fine cream rug beneath her rather than the ruby eyes which swept the room as their owner strode before them.

The dark lord Voldemort felt a twinge of satisfaction as he strode around the room, mind whirling furiously. The setback to his plan could be easily remedied; in fact, he had already set the wheels in motion. To put it in simple terms, he had been most… displeased with his _competent_ death eater who couldn't even complete the seemingly easy task he had set her. His lip curled up in a smirk. Bellatrix would think twice before failing a task again, lest she find herself once again on the receiving end of his stick of yew.

Not that she had gotten off lightly, Voldemort almost scoffed. He wasn't one to allow such inefficiency and he certainly wasn't going to start anytime soon.

Yes, _dear_ Bellatrix had been punished, and brutally.

At least the foolish woman hadn't returned back completely empty handed. In fact, Voldemort mused, it was probably because of the information she retained that she lived to see the sun set tonight. Her failure at the ministry was still fresh on his mind and with a second negative result so soon, well… she should be counting her blessings.

Not that Bellatrix would worship anyone other than himself.

She had informed him that she had lost the Potter brat in an alleyway after he had transformed. Cowering under his furious gaze at those words, she had hurriedly informed him that she swiftly picked up his trail which directed her down Knockturn Alley, where she had come across the kitten being apparated away by none other than Severus Snape.

After her use for knowledge had diminished, she had fallen under his wand mercilessly before the furious Dark Lord had swept back into Malfoy manor, attempting to gain control of his rage. Once alone – apart from the Malfoy's who had immediately sunk to the ground on his arrival - he had stopped to think, and Bellatrix's words sunk in.

Potter was at Hogwarts with Snape.

Severus Snape.

**His** loyal death eater.

Despite his previous anger, a cruel laugh broke free from his mouth which echoed through the room. Unbeknownst to him, the death eaters awaiting his arrival in the sitting room had all shuddered at the menacing laugh which pierced through the air.

That didn't bode well for someone.

Finally, the laugh died on his lips, along with any negative thoughts he had on the situation. Voldemort began to pace before the duo, a new plan quickly forming.

He still had a chance to capture Potter.

He turned his eyes to the figures kneeling off to the side of the room; Lucius met his gaze slightly before fixating his eyes to the floor. His wife, Narcissa, had her head lowered, the tips of her blonde hair grazing the floor as she surveyed the carpet. The family that was once proud, powerful and respected were now disgraced cannon fodder that was hardly fit to wipe the dirt from his feet.

How pathetic.

"Lucius, Narcissa," he finally addressed them, watching in amusement as the pair twitched slightly then scrambled to bow – if possible - even lower. "I have a message you need to deliver."

Lucius glanced up, the flickering light in the room throwing his sunken eyes into sharp focus. "Message, My Lord?" he inquired before lowering his head once more. Voldemort inclined his head slightly.

"Indeed," he strode forward, closing the distance between his servants. "Well, more of an addition to your son, Draco's, mission," he waved a hand airily before him.

At the mention of her son, Narcissa raised her head, peering questioningly at her master, her heart picking up pace at the thought of her son dirtying his hands even more. "Draco?" she whispered.

"Yes, Draco," his lip curled at the distraught look upon the woman's face. Conceding defeat, she bowed her head, lank hair tumbling off her shoulders to rest on the floor once more.

"What do you require of us, My Lord?" she murmured to the carpet, fists clenching slightly at her sides as she struggled to keep her voice emotionless - The man before them practically thrived on distress, after all.

"Send word to Draco asking for the date of the first Hogsmead visit. Also advise him it would be in his best interests to wait near the nearby mountain entrance on that day, I'll be sending something for him to deliver to the castle."

"But, Master," Lucius interjected suddenly, raising himself slightly from the floor in his panic. Catching sight of the man's furious face though, he quickly remembered his place, sinking back to his knees with a slight thud. "That will be impossible. They are checking everything going in and out of that castle; he won't be able to get it in undetected." Voldemort hissed slightly at his statement.

"You think I forgot those details?" he whispered, red eyes flashing, "Do you think me that incompetent? "You need only send the letter, I'll handle the rest, or is your masters' wishes too much for you to handle?" Not awaiting an answer, he turned and strode for the door, robes billowing behind him. Behind him, he heard the two Malfoy's give a sigh of relief at his departure. Voldemort almost snorted as the sound reached his ears.

How foolish.

Voldemort reached the door and paused, a smirk gracing his face once more. He slowly sunk a hand within his robe, pulling forth his wand, which he fingered lovingly, admiring it in the light of the room. "Oh, Lucius," he purred, turning around to the pitiful man still situated on the ground, wife kneeling at his side.

"For your backchat," he murmured, raising his wand before him lazily, watching in fascination at the grey eyes followed it fearfully.

"Crucio!"

* * *

Severus grumbled inaudibly as he shuffled around the kitchen, eyes scanning the room critically for any remaining evidence of the destruction from the night before. The cat sure knew where to hit him where it hurt – Severus considered his kitchen as another potions room. It had devastated him to see all the ingredients strewn over the floor, mixed together to form a mass concoction of uselessness. Severus scowled. There was no way he would live it down if anyone got word he had been bested by a _kitten_.

Speaking of the feline.

The small bundle was still curled up on his couch, getting the best of the warmth from the dying embers in the fireplace. The sheet had slipped off the small form during the night, and Severus made no move to replace it – with the current warmth from the fire he didn't see a need to.

Still nursing his damaged pride, Severus swept into the restored lounge room, settling into his favourite chair with a sigh as he sank into the comforting leather. He pursed his lips as he raised a steaming mug of coffee to his lips and took a small sip, eyes coming to rest once again on the new addition to his room. He needed to remember to buy some sort of food for the animal sometime during the day, lest he want the thing to starve, considering he had neglected to feed the animal yesterday. Severus grimaced.

The cat surely found something to eat during the remodelling of his kitchen.

Draining his cup, the new DADA rose with newfound vigour, marching over to replace his porcelain in the sink before heading for the shower, grabbing a towel from a cupboard on the way. Thirty minutes and another coffee later saw him out the door, leaving behind the dozing kitten as he made his way up out of the dungeons.

It was going to be a pain travelling so far to his new classroom.

Swooping into the Great Hall gracefully with customary scowl in place, Severus marched up the side of the hall, offering a few curt nods to the Slytherins who greeted him. Slipping gratefully into his place after Hagrid squeezed down to make room, he returned the half-giants greeting before zoning in on a platter of bacon before him. After piling his plate to the brim and digging in, his other seating companion turned to him.

"So, Severus," Minerva peered over her spectacles at him, a slight smile pulling at her lips. "I take it you're looking forward to your new classes?"

Severus barely contained himself from rolling his eyes. Talk about stating the obvious. No, after finally attaining his desired position after all these years, he no longer wanted it. Instead, he opted to smirk at the Scottish woman as he reached for a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Was I really that subtle, Minerva?"

She frowned sternly at him like he was a disobedient student. "Communication skills as sharp as ever," she muttered, waving a fork in his direction as she fixed him with her beady gaze. Ignoring her snide remark, Severus turned back to his breakfast – she surely knew better than attempt conversation with him this early in the morning. Sure enough, the transfiguration teacher left him to brood, wisely turning her eyes back on her own plate.

Far sooner than Severus would have liked, the Great Hall began filling up as students rushed in to scoff a quick breakfast before the first lesson of the day. The usual hustle and bustle increased as the teenagers expressed their enthusiasm to be back with their friends.

Severus shuddered.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the new DADA teacher rose to his feet, summoning his house schedules with a flick of his wand. Departing the staff table, he made his way over to his snakes, swiftly depositing them onto each student, moving on before any could strike up idle conversation.

Finally passing off the last slip of parchment, Severus turned heel to leave – he had a new intimidating speech about defence to make up before his first class.

Making his way from the hall, his steps slowed slightly as he passed the Gryffindor's. The lions were usually the most rowdy on the first day back, yet they now resembled that of a funeral procession. Black eyes scanned up the table before they landed on Weasley and Granger, both looking thoroughly downcast, the Weasley girl and Longbottom flanking them, looking equally sombre. Severus frowned.

Potter was still missing then.

How was he supposed to keep the boy from harm's way when he wasn't even at school? Severus instantly regretted brushing off Minerva - he completely forgot her trip to the Dursleys the previous night. His frown deepened as he mentally visualised a to-do list for the day, causing some of the Gryffindor's to look at him in alarm.

1. Buy cat food.

2. Inquire about Potter.

Mentally shaking his head at the ridiculousness of his thoughts, Severus chastised himself for lagging slightly – he was now under the scrutiny of more than a few curious eyes. Hastily neutralising his features, Severus adverted his eyes, sweeping past the silent table and out of the hall.

He had a lesson to prepare for.

* * *

'_Not a bad start so far,'_ Severus mused, striding down the dungeon corridor towards his sanctuary in the late afternoon. All of his defence lessons so far had gone without a hitch, as expected.

Courtesy of his new entrance and speech, no doubt.

He'd managed to obtain a box of cat food in Hogsmeade during lunch, the food now in his pocket, shrunken away from prying eyes. It was towards the kitten that he now strode, intent on making certain the feline had something to eat other than the food from his cupboards. He had also picked out a few personal items, getting carried away while purchasing some necessary items for the feline. Severus grimaced.

He was getting soft.

Reaching his room, he swiped a finger down the familiar patch of wall before stepping inside after giving the command, critically scanning the room for a repeat of last night's performance. Thankfully, his room appeared the same as he left it, minus the sleeping kitten on the chair.

Eyes narrowing on the vacant seat, the feared professor stalked closer, an uneasy feeling of foreboding setting over him. Advertising his gaze, his eyes swept over the room as a whole, confirming that the terror wasn't hiding anywhere in the room.

He groaned.

"Perfect," Severus muttered, backtracking and making his way into the kitchen. After a thorough check and yielding the same results, he quickened his stride to the bathroom, once again finding no sign of the missing kitten. That only left-

"The bedroom," Severus growled, pinching his nose in frustration as he swept over to the sleeping quarters, dreading what he would find within. If the feline had proved anything so far, it was that a small thing _could_ cause such a huge mess. After his intimidation lesson the previous night, surely the cat had more sense than to shred his bed. After all, the felidae family were known for being relatively intelligent.

Severus nodded reassuringly, erasing all worry from his head. He doubted the feline had a death wish.

Pausing in the doorway, the DADA teacher let out a relieved sigh as a quick glance over the room showed it had escaped, unscathed. It was only then that he noticed the small bundle at his feet. Glancing down, his eyes locked on the brilliant emerald orbs of the kittens. Crouching to inspect the fluffy mass, Severus had to force down a smirk as he inspected the felines features. If it was possible, the cat seemed to be glaring at him reproachfully, ears flattered as it stared unblinkingly at the professor.

Severus merrily sneered.

"What's wrong with you?" he inquired scathingly, reaching out an arm to scoop the bundle up. Anticipating his move, the kitten backed out of reach with a pitiful yowl, eyes still locked on Severus. A feeling of unease rushed back to Severus, and he frowned slightly, black eyes narrowing.

Something was wrong.

Rising to his feet, ignoring the creak of his knees as he stood, the Slytherin head of house once again took in the room, studying everything slowly in detail. Still in front of him, the kitten continued its task of backing away from the man, as if anticipating the teacher to blow up at any second.

How right he was.

Severus eyed the mahogany frame of his grand bed before taking in the deep royal blue bed sheets. At first glance it appeared untouched, but after closer inspection a small object was visible on the crisp covers. Stepping closer, Severus gazed at the intruding object, finally placing it.

It seemed the kitten had left him a present, a disgusting, vile, piece of-

Severus's eye twitched.

"You defecated on my sheets!" he hissed, glaring at the small feline that was still backing away, looking guilty in every way possible.

* * *

Harry hissed warningly as his professor stalked towards him, a predatory look in his dark orbs. "You had it coming, Snape," he yowled, continuing to keep his distance from the sallow faced man. To his displeasure the man pressed forward, all the while spitting profanities. Harry bristled.

No way was he sticking around.

Harry gave one last howl of protest before racing away from the man, scampering under the bed before the long fingers of the furious professor could fasten over him. Squeezing his way through the small gap, Harry finally made it to the centre of the bed, the safest place he could manage so far. Once there he settled down, tucking his small paws under his body as he waited for Snape's tantrum to ride out.

He cocked his head to the side once the shouting subsided, ears picking up the sound of his teacher muttering a faint 'scourgify' to rid the waste from his doona. Really, Harry couldn't see what Snape was fuming about. What about him? It was embarrassing, not being granted a place to dispose of his waste, so Harry had decided to leave Snape a little gift. He felt that his reasoning was justified – maybe the man would think twice before denying him necessary items, like say, a kitty litter tray. Harry shuddered.

_That_ was going to take some getting used to.

As if on cue, the Slytherin head of house continued to overreact, his snide voice grating on Harry's oversensitive ears. Growling softly, he attempted to shut the man out, seriously, all seriousness aside, the man could be an actor with the way he blew things out of proportion.

"You little runt, get out here right-"

Maybe Snape'll let him outside to do his business.

"My bed! My bed of all pla-"

A change of scenery would be nice.

"Why I even saved you, I'll never kn-"

Damn Snape and his bat cave.

"Fine then, go hungry!"

Damp and chilly and- wait, what?

Harry groaned in defeat, his stomach protesting audibly at the lack of food. Snape sure knew how to reel him in.

Smart bastard.

Hearing the unmistakable sound of jangling cat biscuits decided it. Stomach clenching half in delight and half revulsion, Harry quickly unfurled and edged out from the bed. With his ears and nose leading him, the small black bundle padded hesitantly into the kitchen, freezing when the venomous gaze of his professor looked his way.

"There you are," the man growled, still miffed at the abuse his bed sheet had endured. Harry noticed with relief that his anger had diminished, for the most part. A frown still marred across the pale face but considering it was Snape, Harry didn't expect anything less. Gesturing at his feet, Harry noticed the cat bowl sitting filled with food.

His stomach rumbled again.

"Eat your food," Snape pressed, nodding his head towards the bowl. Still, Harry didn't move. Better to be safe than sorry in case the man still held a grudge from the earlier incident. He sat back on his haunches, a small mewl of complaint passing his lips. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"Oh for the love of Merlin," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Look," he moved to the cupboard, picking up the box of cat food and presenting it before the kitten. "Don't pretend this food isn't for you, it says so right there," he pointed at the word 'kitten' on the box. "Now eat it."

Harry gave a snort at that, causing a loud meow to escape. Snape was trying so hard at something he obviously knew nothing about. At least he had this form of entertainment to look forward to as a cat. Grinning in amusement, he scurried up to the bowl, taking a small sniff of the contents.

Urgh.

Wrinkling his nose, Harry straightened up, eyeing Snape pleadingly. Why couldn't the greasy git share _proper_ food. It wasn't that the cat biscuits smelt gross, in fact, it was because they appealed to Harry that he felt queasy. He wasn't supposed to _like_ this food.

Even as he battled internally with himself, the smell of the biscuits under his nose wavered tantalisingly before him, effectively ending his protests in an instant as he began to dig in with gusto. Harry cringed even as the delicious treats were munched between his teeth.

This was so _wrong!_

Ensnared by the food, Harry paid Snape no heed as the man began to bustle around the kitchen, muttering as he walked. It was only when a bowl of warm milk was placed beside him did Harry look up, the man ignoring his scrutiny as he went about fixing himself a drink. Bemused at how un-Snape Snape was acting, Harry turned back to his food, confused.

Snape must _really_ like cats.

The greasy haired professor turned his back on the kitten, returning his attention to the steaming mug he now had waiting on the bench, blowing on it softly. A few minutes passed by in comfortable silence until Harry perked up, giving a soft warning meow as a dull clump of footsteps sounded from the sitting room.

"Severus?"

Said man turned towards the arrogant voice, nodding his head in greeting. Harry, noticing Snape's body language, turned towards the doorway, a warning growl erupting from his chest at the sight of the intruder.

"Malfoy!"

* * *

So sorry about the late update. My town flooded and I effectively lost power, so bye went my internet. Then because of the roads being flooded I was stranded at home with absolutely nothing to do. I was even craving going back to work; I was that desperate and bored.

Anyway, hope everyone likes the chapter, but I wasn't happy with it at all, no matter how many times I changed it.

Reviews and thoughts of the story so far are very much appreciated!


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